Reaching into the Bag
by singingsin
Summary: Daryl celebrates his first holiday with the group. DarylXAndrea and fleeting mentions of BethXCarl. This is another prompt form my list, #166. I choose to do it, because the idea struck me. Enjoy guys! And as always, let me know your thoughts!


Of all the ridiculous things he had imagined since the world went to shit, this was quite possibly on the top of the list.

"Go on," Carol said, thrusting the worn rucksack towards him.

Sighing, he shuffles forward, reaching info the bag reluctantly. The crumpled slips of paper make a quiet swishing sound as he stirs them around, the dry paper brushing together. He closes his hand around one, and pulls his fist back up. He throws Carol a weary look, but the set of her jaw tells him that she's not giving him an inch on this one.

He sighs again, loudly, the only type of protest he thinks will suit his current situation,(and the only one he thinks Carol will let him get away with) and unfolds the scrap of paper. 'Maggie' it proclaims, in the farm girls neat hand. He rolls his eyes. Great.

Christ he didn't want to do this.

Who cared that it was three days till Christmas? He certainly didn't. Fuck, who even kept track of the days anymore? He hardly had even before the dead came to life. The passage of time was useless, the sun just another marker for the beginning of one more day of hell and the moon a sign that you had managed yet another day of survival. God, who made time for holidays now?

Foolish. That's what he'd said when Carol and Beth cornered him, paper slip and pen in hand. But they wore him down, like most woman tended to. And now he was Maggie's secret Santa. Fucking fabulous.

He disappears into his room, the last cell on the top-level of the prison block, and sits down hard on the bottom bunk. He likes this room, despite his doubt that they'll be here for much longer. Its cold, the concrete holding on to Winters icy chill. They're always shivering, even when they have three or four layers on. He picked this room for a reason. He can see the whole area that they've made their home, and out of the top windows across the room he can see the road leading into the prison. It feels secure to him. Safe. Safer than he's felt in a while, which is worrisome in and of itself. He can't afford to settle down, get used to something easier than dead cold flesh and blood and teeth and gore. He'll lose his edge.

He looks at the crumpled slip of paper again. Shit. What is he gonna do about this? What the hell do woman want anyways? He's never gotten a woman a present of any sort, and he doesn't know Maggie very well at all. He hasn't even had a proper conversation with the girl. She's always off with her sister and the baby, or chatting with her dad. When she's not with them, she's off making out with Glenn in some dark corner. Hell he's walked in on them plenty of times, rounding a corner while doing a perimeter check and getting an eyeful. He lays back on his thin mattress and contemplates.

"Hey," a small voice breaks the silence, making him automatically reach for his hunting knife while sitting up smoothly, one fluid motion. He hands relaxes though, when he sees the lanky arms and ranger hat.

"Carl. What the hell ya doin' sneakin' up on me like that? Coulda killed ya. You should know better," he grumbles. How has he learned to be so quiet all of a sudden? Its unnerving. He doesn't really mind though. He actually likes the kid. He's truthful, not afraid to say what most adults skirt around.

Carl shuffles a bit, waiting for Daryl to give him permission to come into his space. Lori may not have been around long to teach him much, he thinks, but hell, she got manners down pat. He even says please and thank you still, when he's around people he trusts. Strangers are a different thing. Then he becomes his fathers son, observant and cool. Cruel too sometimes, as only a child can be. But he's generally ok in Daryl's books, so he gives the kid a small nods, and pats the bed beside him.

"Whatcha need kid?"

"A new secret Santa paper," he says, his eyes drifting to the scrap sitting on Daryl's pillow.

"Why?"

"The person I got...I kinda accidentally told them."

Daryl's eyebrows arch up on amusement. "How did ya manage that?"

"Tried to trade for Beth's paper," he mumbles, his face turning red."The person that had Beth was my person."

"Christ! Didn't ya look at it before ya tried to trade it?" He says incredulously, and Carl ducks his head. "...no." The boy says finally, and Daryl shakes his head.

"So ya want mine right?"

"If you don't mind...please?"

There he goes, being all polite and shit, and Daryl knows he can't say no. All he can do is hope he doesn't get another woman. Maybe Rick, or Hershel…

"Sure." He says and gives Carl Maggie's paper. Carl just grins at him and run out the door, sneakers squeaking on the concrete floor. At least someone is enthused by this stupid secret Santa shit. He smooths out his new paper, his eyes flitting over the flowing script. Andrea. He groans, both inwardly and out loud although there's no one around to hear his lament. This just went from bad to worse.

At least with Maggie he had stood a chance, however slim it might have been. She was a farm girl, a creature that wasn't as hard to figure out for a mountain dweller like himself. They both lived off the land, knew how to shoot a gun, dealt with animals, that kinda shit. But Andrea. Shit, Andrea was a city girl. A big shot lawyer who had been used to fancy dinners, and a comfortable life in a big expensive house. What the hell did he know about that stuff? Nothing, that's what. Her idea of a Christmas gift was probably something he couldn't even comprehend.

Hell, he can't even remember if he's ever gotten a gift in his entire life. Not for birthdays, Christmas, or anything. His family didn't do gifts, or holidays or celebrations. It was a good day if you only got cuffed upside the head in his household. That was before this though, he remembers. Before he watched his asshole father turn, before he lost Merle... It occurs to him that this will be the first Christmas he actually celebrates. It gives him a funny feeling in his stomach, a sort of queasiness. He wonders if he's being a bit of a stick in the mud. He isn't the same person anymore. He always has to remind himself of that. Maybe he can be someone who celebrates Christmas now. Who looks forward to turning a year older. Maybe he needs to look at this as an opportunity instead of something troublesome. He huffs, thinking it through, all the pros and cons, and when he finally makes his decision he's a bit surprised.

He's actually gonna do this. He's at least got to try. These people…his new family. They deserve a break. Especially Andrea. She went through hell to get back to them. Got beat up and hurt and tortured…she still has ugly bruises that are just beginning to fade now. He stands up. If he's gonna do this, he's gonna do it right. He's gonna find out everything he can about Andrea and go into town and find her something perfect. A weird warmth suffuses him, and he feels his lips tug up into a smile. Imagine that. He's actually sort of excited now.

He spends the next couple of days listening and asking subtle questions. What does Andrea miss the most? What does she like? Her favourite colour? Any hobbies? And what does she hate? What can she not stand? It sort of reminds him of tracking a deer. The key is picking up on its habits. Each creature is different. Just like humans. He takes in a slow trickle of information until he's got a decent list, and he's genuinely surprised at the person he's uncovered. Here he thought Andrea was bound to be a prissy, spoiled city girl, but she's miles away from that assumption.

She likes animals. Appreciates a cold beer on a hot day. Can't stand dressing up unless its necessary. Hates liars. She misses being clean the most, and would kill for a nice hot shower. She can probably fish better than he can. She never drank coffee in the old world and loved to play sports. She was a black belt in karate.

If anything he's more confused now then he was before. He thought he knew this woman, thought he had her down to the very last detail. He's always considered himself a good judge of character. He never thought to actually take the effort to learn about someone. Maybe there's more to this group than he thinks, and maybe its worth the effort of getting to know them. But now the question of what to get this complex person as a gift became much harder. He had thought maybe some perfume or a necklace might have been fine, but now he's certain that she wont be happy with that. Well, no that's not it. She'd certainly appreciate whatever he gave her, but that wasn't enough. He wanted her to like it. _Love it_. Be thrilled.

He's running out of time though. The gift exchange is tomorrow night. Today, half the group had gone into town to get their gifts on a quick supply run, and tomorrow the other half would go. He still had no idea what to even look for. He leans against the door frame of his cell, and watches the woman do laundry. Andrea is laughing at something Carol has said, and Beth is sitting with them, jiggling the baby on her lap. He sighs. Maybe inspiration will hit him when he goes into town tomorrow.

The next day dawns bright and cold. Winters are hard and harsh in Georgia, same as the summers, just opposite temperature extremes. The cold at least seems to slow the walkers down. Makes it easier to avoid them, cause they move in a jerky, stiff way, different from their usual stumbling, rage filled, charges. Today's group is him, Glenn, Beth and Hershel and Carl. Having Hershel and Beth may slow him down, but Glenn is quick and Carl is a good shot, so they can probably do this without much trouble. He hitches he crossbow a little higher on his back and peers past the gates into the yard. There are still a few walkers struggling through the snow, snarling as they see fresh meat just behind the protective fence. They're nothing but skin and bones now, the lack of food slowing them down as much as the weather. He knows that he should feel relieved that they seem to be dying off, but he can't bring himself to hope. Hope is dangerous. Just as much as feeling safe is.

They set off, taking a four-wheel jeep that they scavenged just before winter set in. Rick was on the ball with this one, knowing that the regular vehicles wouldn't be as reliable in snow and ice. He feels better knowing that this jeep is less likely to skid and crash on icy roads when he's driving with half of his makeshift family in the back seat. The roads are clear though. No sign of life or walkers anywhere, and the roadblock that they put up is still set aside from yesterdays group. They'll drag it back into place tomorrow morning.

The town is eerie.

He's used to seeing walkers by now, and they're still present, but instead of rushing at the car, they just lay where they've fallen, gnashing their teeth at they roll the jeep past slowly. It's a very open, vulnerable feeling. He immediately longs for the cover of the woods. He always hated towns and cities. They made him feel claustrophobic and panicky, and even now he has to take a deep breath to steady himself. Clear his head, focus his senses. He needs to be sharp for this, if he's gonna protect everyone. Because the hardest part of this run is the location. They've already picked clean the smaller buildings, and they've had to go further and further out to find supplies. The group yesterday did that, driving in as close to Atlanta as they dared. But with Hershel not being as mobile, and Beth being as timid as she is, Daryl doesn't feel that it's the best idea to copy the others. So instead he's chosen to tackle the big department store. They haven't gone into this building more than once or twice in the past year or so. It's always been filled with walkers, stupid idiots who locked themselves in then had someone turn amongst them. They had tried this place before and several of them had nearly been lost trying to find a safe way in. So they had just left it.

Until now.

Daryl remembers coming down here about 2 months ago on a run for the baby. Some passing fool had tried to smash their way into the store using a car and had unleashed the buildings occupants on themselves. He can still see the skeleton hanging from the car window. But he doesn't see any of those walker around now. And when opportunity knocks…

He signals to Glenn and Carl, who look at him skeptically, but follow him. Hershel and Beth stay in the jeep as lookouts, ready to tear out should they get over run or ambushed by some other group. Its happened before and they don't take chances now.

"Whoa," Carl whispers when he gets a good look at the front of the store, and Glenn gives a low whistle. There's a walker here and there, but other than that the store seems untouched. Its obvious that no one has found this place yet. Plenty of stuff to pick over. Daryl grins. They get to work, and clear every nook and cranny of the store, three whole levels. By the time they get back down to Beth and Hershel, all three of them have big grins pasted on their faces.

"There's so much stuff!" Carl announces happily, and grabs Beth's hand to pull her in. Hershel shakes his head chuckling at Carl's enthusiasm, and Glenn helps the man over the broken glass carefully, chatting away casually about what he should grab for Maggie. Daryl can't believe that they lucked out this big. They might have to bring the whole group back with them tomorrow, delay the present giving. Damn, this is a present enough for everyone! He readies the car just in case they need to get away fast for some reason, and grabs his rucksack. There's gotta be something in there for Andrea.

It doesn't take them long to pile the back of the jeep with as much as they can carry. Food, blankets, clothes and water. Toiletries. Batteries. Baby formula and diapers. The necessities first. Then they tuck in little things here and there. A pile of new board games. A bag full of books, and novels. A basket ball for the prison courtyard, as well as some baby toys. it's a good haul, and Daryl feels good about the bringing this home. Feels like he's done something right, providing for his family. He's halfway home when he realizes that he forgot to find Andrea something.

In the end it's actually Beth that helps him solve his problem, which is ironic because in a roundabout way she's the cause of the problem in the first place. He comes across Beth in the guardhouse tower, hunched over something on the desk, her shoulders shaking furiously. At first he thinks she's crying, and he automatically backs away. He can deal with plenty of crap. Grotesque injuries, killing things, zombies for Christ's sake. But a crying woman? No way. He doesn't know what to do with them. But as he's backing away, he realizes that usually with crying comes sobbing. And Beth isn't making any noise at all. Curiosity gets the best of him, and he politely raps a knuckle on the door to let his presence be known. Beth jumps anyways, a little scream echoing off the walls and he feels a tug of guilt. He didn't mean to scare her. Jesus, these people are making him into a sissy, feeling bad for scaring them. Beth relaxes instantly when she sees him though, and that makes him feel a little better.

"Daryl! You scared me!" she says breathlessly.

"Sorry. Didn't mean ta….just curious. Bout what yer doin up here by yerself is all."

Her face lights up. Obviously he's said something right, so he approaches her slowly, as she giggles and shuffles some paper around on the desk. He spies some beaten up paper and old coloured pencils, and his stomach twists a bit. They used to be Sophia's. That girl loved to colour. A wave of something he can't name washes over him, and he feels heavy briefly. Tired. But its only for a moment, and then he's glad that someone else is using these things. Sophia would be happy to know that they aren't going to waste.

"What are you doin?" he asks finally.

" I'm making a coupons." she says brightly.

"Coupons?"

"Yeah! Here look. This one is for my dad. For one five songs of his choice, and I'll sing them for him. And this one is for Carol, a five days of her choice off from chores. Oh, and this one is for Carl! One free favour, anything he wants…" she blushes a bit.

Coupons, huh. He has a feeling that this is one of those childhood things that he missed out on. Like kissing injuries to make them feel better and having chicken soup when you're sick. He never had anyone to do those things for him, so once in a while, someone will mention something like that and he'll have to ask them to explain it. This is definitely one of the weirder ones.

"What's the point? Why do ya give them coupons? Can't ya just tell them that you'll do it for them?"

"No!" she says, aghast, and Daryl scratches his head. She looks at him, a look of something akin to pity on her face. Daryl wants to growl at her then and leave, but before he can she grabs his wrist. "Let me explain?" she offers, and her voice is so sincere, he finds his irritation melt away.

"You have to make the coupons Daryl," she says reasonably, letting his wrist go. "Sure you could just tell them that you'll do these things for them, but its more about the effort and thought you put into them. The feelings behind them." She points to each coupon she's finished. "I like to draw on them, make them personalized. People like it when they can feel how much love and care you've put into them. Its like giving them a piece of yourself…. I used to make these for my family on every occasion." she says softly.

An idea blooms in a dark corner of his mind. Could he get away with that?

"How many can you make fer one person?" he asks Beth shyly.

"Well I'm only making one for everybody this time. And my secret Santa has one in addition to their present. I'll make one for you too, but you can't see it until tomorrow! But you can make as many as you want." she smiles at him, and he lets himself smile back.

"Can…can you help me? Teach me to make them?" he asks quietly, and Beth grins.

"Of course!"

They stay up all night colouring.

The next day feels different to him. There's a distinctly different energy in the air, as the group wakes up. There's discussion over a breakfast about who will go back into town to pack up some more of the department store stuff, and who will stay behind. Beth, Maggie, Carol and Andrea offer to stay behind, and Rick and Hershel mention something about having to do some special task, which he raises an eyebrow at, but doesn't argue with, even when they ask Glenn to help. So that leaves him, Michonne, Carl. He figures that they should be able to take two cars and finish getting anything useful out of the store. They all part ways, each with a task in mind and he wonders what it will be like when he gets back. His stomach flips nervously, excitedly. His first real Christmas.

By late afternoon they've picked over all the stuff in the store with minimal trouble from walkers. His rucksack is full of little trinkets and items he's picked up for the rest of the group as an afterthought, as well as some larger more awkward gifts that he nearly gets caught hiding among the other supplies . Beth was giving everyone a gift, why shouldn't he? They head for home, taking it slow with the loaded down cars, and they have to stop and pull the roadblock back into place. By the time they get through the prison fences, its getting dark, and cold. They park the cars close to the doors, so they can finish unpacking everything tomorrow morning, and get inside.

Its like walking into an actual home.

Daryl can hardly believe the difference. The air is heavy with the smell of a hot meal, and it's actually _warm. _He looks around. Someone has dragged a giant pine tree inside, and decorated it with a mish-mash of old decorations and paper cut-out snowflakes. There are even some beat up Christmas lights strung around it. Some tables have magically appeared in the centre of the room, and its set with real dishes, cups and cutlery.

Daryl is speechless. How the hell did these people manage this?

"I fixed the generator." Glenn says from behind him, and he turns. "took me forever to scavenge the parts, but it can run it off a mixture of watered down gasoline. Found a couple full pumps near Atlanta." Everyone is smiling manically, standing there looking at him. "And Rick and Hershel went out and cut down the tree."

"Nonsense!" argues Hershel, "Rick cut it down. I just stood there keeping watch."

"Well, we did nothing compared to the woman. They've been clearing out the catacombs to get to the kitchen for months. Didn't even notice till they dragged the tables in earlier today." Rick adds.

"We thought we should all enjoy Christmas this year," Carol says amiably, and she and the woman all laugh.

Daryl just can't believe that they all managed to pull this off together, and he didn't even notice. These people are crazy! But oddly, he doesn't care. They're his crazy people after all.

Dinner is the first hot meal they've all had in months, and not a scrap is left over after. Everyone is full for once. They all fall into happy conversations, and Daryl takes this opportunity to sneak away to his room. His rucksack full of gifts is still on the bed, and he takes each one out with care. As an afterthought, he went into the party supply section this afternoon and grabbed all the little gift bags and tissue paper he could. He sort of remembers seeing pictures of presents on flyers that would make their way up to the his house once in a while. They always looked really pretty, but he never saw the point until now.

He quickly wraps everything as best he can, and he ends up with pile of clumsily wrapped things. He empties the cardboard box he uses for his dirty laundry onto the floor and fills it up with his awkward presents. Just in time too, because he can hear Carl and Beth begging for presents.

He's not sure how to do this.

He walks down to the tree, feeling very self-conscious as everyone eyes his box with a mixture of surprise and delight.

"Well. Show me how this whole Christmas shit is done." he says, and everyone smiles.

It turns out to not be so hard. It seems that everyone has ignored the secret Santa only rule, and has managed to get their hands on small gifts or handmade them presents. Judith, gets a bunch of tiny pink clothes and toys, and Rick smiles as he jiggles the baby in his arms. Carl gives her a framed photo of him and Rick and Lori, and Rick stills and just gazes at his son, a look of wonder and pride on his face. Carl sends a sideways glance at Michonne, and Daryl senses a new found camaraderie there. He snagged a super warm baby blanket for Judith and wrote her nickname on it in permanent felt.

"So she'll know she's always been a lil' ass kicker when she gets big," he says and everyone laughs.

His presents are well received. Carl loves the new crossbow he found for him, and makes Daryl promise to teach him how to use it properly. Hershel gets a new set of crutches, with new padding so it doesn't dig in under his arms as much. Beth gets a sketch book and pencils. Rick a new hunting knife. To Carol he gives a big bag of seed packets, every plant and herb he could find.

"Know you wanted ta start a garden in the Spring." he says, and she hugs him tight and kisses his cheek, much to his embarrassment. To Glenn he gives a new set of running shoes, noticing that his old ones were getting a little worn down. He also stuffed them with as many condoms as he could. Thankfully, Glenn notices and sets them aside so no one else can see them. Maggie was tough, but he ended up getting her a charm bracelet to match the promise ring he saw Glenn pick out for her yesterday. He picked out a leather jacket for Michonne, that he saw her eye earlier, but pass by at the store. He figures she isn't the kind to take something unless she feels she's earned it. He knows the feeling, and is pleasantly surprised when she cracks a small smile. And lastly Andrea. He found her a necklace and a small bottle of perfume that wasn't too disgusting smelling. They make her smile, and she thanks him, but he was right. She only appreciates them, she doesn't love them.

He gets an assortment of interesting things as well. New bolts for his crossbow from Carol, all handmade, a stupid amount of new knives and a new rucksack for hunting. Carl gives him a new belt with a skull on the buckle. Beth gives him a coupon for a free detail and fill up on his motorcycle. He's surprised that she remembers he has it. Its been sitting in the yard for a while collecting dust, and the fact that she's willing to go find gas for it makes his chest feel tight.

Soon everyone has been issued their presets, and people start to drift off to their rooms for the night. Everyone is looking forward to sleeping full and warm tonight. No one mentions secret Santa gifts, so he has to assume that those are given in secret. Makes sense, when you look at the name.

He's lying on his bunk, going over the details of today in his mind, when Andrea drifts in.

"Hey." she says, and he's so relaxed, he doesn't even reach for his knife. It has to be a new record for him.

"Hey," he replies and sits up. "Was actually about ta go lookin fer you. I pulled yer name for secret Santa. Well, I'm sure you figured out that Carl had ta trade with someone." he shakes his head at the memory. Was that really only three days ago? It feels like a lifetime ago.

"I traded for your name for secret Santa," she says smiling, and he feels a warmth untangle itself from around his spine. She traded for him? that was...well, Christ. that was unexpected news. He feels odd...giddy? is that the word? Fuck! what the hell kinda emotion is giddy anyways? the real question is had she always done this before? Make him feel both confused and focused at the same time? No. No, this is definitely new he thinks. He hasn't really been alone with Andrea since she got back. He was the one that found her half dead, stumbling through the woods running from zombies and her own demons. She nearly stabbed him, might have killed him if she hadn't chosen just then to pass out. He carried her the rest of the way there, and passed her off to Hershel and Carol. But this is the first time, really, that they have sat and talked like normal people.

" Well… here I guess," he says, and hands her the little envelope he's had crumpled in his pocket all night. His heart thumps as she opens it and empties the contents into the palm of her hand.

" Are these…coupons? Like the ones Beth made? She looks at him, and her smile gets bigger. "You made me coupons?" He feels his face heat up, and he's glad that its dim in his room. "One free hot shower. One free hunting lesson. One free supply run request….there are so many!" she exclaims, and lifts her hand to her mouth. Her eyes sparkle.

Shit is she crying? Aw hell! He doesn't know how to deal with crying woman, isn't that apparent yet? He holds his hands up, a gesture of helplessness and surrender, and she laughs.

"Sorry, sorry! I'm not sad, I'm really happy! These are great Daryl. I love them, really."

"Good. I'm glad" he says, and he is. He's ridiculously happy that she likes them. " So, where's my present?" he says, trying not to focus on how close she is to him. He can smell her sweat, mingled with the faint scent of the perfume he got her earlier, and the smell of pine from sitting too close to the tree. its doing weird things to him.

"Its right here," she says, and she leans down and brings her lips to his. He's surprised, but instinct takes over, and soon his arms wrap around her and hold her. One hand hesitantly tangles into her hair, and he closes his eyes, memorizing the feel of her lips on his, just in case he should wake up from whatever dream he's having. But it's not a dream, its real, and she's solid in his arms, and desire uncoils in his stomach.

"Well shit," he says softly when they finally break apart. "That's the best present I've gotten all day."

"Merry Christmas Daryl," she whispers into his ear, and they sink down onto his bed.


End file.
